


Life in Paradise

by untouchablerave



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, Present Tense, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchablerave/pseuds/untouchablerave
Summary: He notices you, just like he always does. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks, gently.“Nothing,” you tell him with a smile, as he wipes away your tears. “I’m just so happy.”“Me too,” he agrees.“Thank you for the life you have given me," you tell him. He leans over and kisses you ardently on the mouth.
Relationships: Humphrey Goodman/Reader
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried to be as genderless as possible but references "mother" and "birth"/"giving birth"/"labour".

**Part One**

Humphrey is clattering around in the kitchen when you emerge from the bathroom, praying he has learned from yesterday’s decision not to cook bacon. You can’t stand the smell of it any longer, even though it pains you to admit. Even the thought makes a wave of nausea wash over you.

“You’re not cooking bacon, are you?” you ask, dropping your towel.

“No, darling. Not after yesterday,” Humphrey responds with his head in a cupboard. 

You rummage in the drawers, pulling out clean underwear, a shirt, and a pair of trousers, putting them on one by one as the smell of coffee wafts through the Shack. You pull your trousers up around your waist, but when you try to button them, you find a strain that isn’t usually there. 

“Humphrey,” you call over to him.

“Don’t tell me that coffee is out of the window as well now?” he laughs, appearing on the steps up to the bedroom, leaning on the banister.

You look over to him, admiring him standing there with the tea towel over his shoulder.

“No, coffee is still okay,” you laugh. “But I think we’re going to need to invest in some maternity clothes.”

“Oh, really?” Humphrey reaches behind him for your breakfast. 

“Yes, my trousers are one heavy meal away from becoming unwearable.”

“Sounds like Christmas,” Humphrey replies dryly, stepping up into the bedroom area holding your plate. “We’ll stop by the High Street on the way to work, shall we?”

“It’s weird. I don’t even have a bump yet,” you say, pulling your shirt up to reveal your abdomen.

“All in good time, darling,” he mutters to you sweetly, kissing you on the cheek and handing you some avocado on toast.

You take it from him, leaving your trousers unbuttoned for now. “I suppose I could start wearing skirts but it’s easier to catch criminals in trousers. Skirts are either too tight or too wafty.”

“I know the feeling,” he replies with a grin.

You laugh through your mouthful of toast.

Just then, the phone rings. Humphrey reaches for it on the desk and accepts the call.

“Hello? Hi, Dwayne… Everything alright? Oh really… That’s not far from us… won’t be long. We’ll see you there. Okay. Thanks. Bye!”

“Bit early,” you say, as Humphrey hangs up the phone.

“There’s a body on the beach,” he tells you. “Just past the surf shack.”

“Oh, that’s not far at all,” you agree. “Still, it means we can have a nice walk on the beach before work starts.”

“True,” Humphrey grins and heads back to the kitchen. “Maternity clothes will have to wait, I’m afraid.”

“Tell that to my stomach!”

*

It’s hard not to stroll on the beach, even walking towards a crime scene, but you both try and get there in good time. You swapped your trousers for a pair of jeans that Humphrey accidentally stretched in the wash and feel much more comfortable.

As you approach the crime scene that Dwayne and JP secured, Humphrey lifts up the yellow tape, allowing you to duck under, and then follows suit.

“What do we have here then?” Humphrey asks Dwayne and JP, as you both pull on a pair of latex gloves.

“Naked body washed up on the beach this morning. We got a call from an early morning runner who found the body. Said they were passing on their way home,” says Dwayne. “We took their statement and contact details.”

“Good work,” nods Humphrey, bending low to get a closer look at the corpse. “Why are you naked?” he asked as if wanting the body to respond.

“Any positive ID on the victim?” you ask, making notes in your notebook.

“None as of yet. We called the coastguard to see if they could be of any help. They’re waiting to be spoken to,” says JP.

“Found any clothes nearby?” Humphrey asks, standing up.

“Yes, sir. There was a pile of clothes not far from the body which we’ve bagged for evidence,” says JP.

“Suicide can be ruled out, I assume. If the victim wanted to die, then walking into the sea fully clothed would make more sense,” you say, looking down at the corpse. “Clothes would make you heavier and likely to drown quicker.”

“So, the victim decides to go for a late-night skinny dip and drowns in the process?” Humphrey muses, then his head snaps to you. “What did you say?”

“Which bit?”

“About suicide.”

“I said I think it wasn’t suicide.”

“You said if the victim wanted to die – what if the victim didn’t want to die?”

“What if he just wanted to go skinny dipping?” shrugs Dwayne.

“No that’s the point,” breathes Humphrey. “Why go skinny dipping on your own? Surely it’s more fun if you’re with someone.”

“Speaking from experience, Chief?” snorts JP.

“So, if someone else was here? Where are they?” Humphrey mutters, his mouth contorted in confusion.

“So, we can’t rule out murder then?” you ask.

“Not yet,” Humphrey shakes his head. “Let’s talk to the coastguard and see what they know. Dwayne, JP, can you cover the corpse please, for respect.”

“Yes, Chief,” JP and Dwayne chorus.

“Come on, number two,” he says to you, as the both of you walk over to where a member of the coastguard is standing. “Good morning,” he says, extending his hand for him to shake. “I’m Detective Inspector Humphrey Goodman, and this is my Detective Sargent and mother of my child,” he says, without missing a beat.

You snort, also shaking hands with the coastguard.

“Err… congratulations?” the coastguard says, looking confused. “I’m Adam.”

“Thanks,” you laugh breathily, taking out a notebook and pen for Humphrey, as usual.

You both interview Adam, who doesn’t seem to offer anything tangible to add to your investigation, and so part company with contact details and thanks.

“Dwayne, JP, we’ll walk back to the Shack and get the jeep. See you back at the station in half an hour,” you tell them.

“Can you release the body to the paramedics?” asks Humphrey. “First port of call is to work on a positive ID. We need to let the family know as soon as possible.”

You both turn and walk back along the beach, an arm around each other, admiring the waves and mulling over the case in your thoughts.

“Did you really have to introduce me as the mother of your child?” you ask with a giggle.

“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” smirks Humphrey, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

“I know, but still,” you smile up at him.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks you tentatively.

“I am,” you nod. “I’m not feeling quite so sick these days.”

“That’s good. I want us to avoid having to go to the hospital until we’re actually having the baby,” he says with a laugh.

“Correction,” you interject. “I’m having the baby. You’ll probably have some broken fingers.”

“Good job we’ll be in a hospital then,” he laughs again, as you both walk back to the Shack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

You sit at your desk, mulling through the files in your in-tray, none of them capturing your focus. You put your head in your hands, massage your temples, and decide it’s time for another cup of tea. Humphrey senses your thoughts before you even raise your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You sit back in your chair. “No, I’m annoyed.”

“Don’t blame him, Sarge,” Dwayne pipes up. “It’s not his fault he’s completely useless.”

“Yes, thank you, Dwayne,” Humphrey quips. “But just out of interest, what have I done?”

“Not you,” you smile. “Never you.”

“See,” Humphrey scoffs at Dwayne who grins cheekily.

“Do you remember that case about a month ago that we couldn’t solve?” you ask.

“It’s not that we didn’t solve it,” Humphrey responds, clearly also annoyed. “It’s ongoing. We haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Didn’t the Commissioner explicitly tell us to shelve it?” asks JP.

You and Humphrey look at each other. “I just thought he meant shelve it for now,” Humphrey replies, looking sheepish. “Tea?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“Please.”

Humphrey gets up and takes your mug from your desk and walks into the kitchen.

“It just annoys me because nothing about that case makes sense,” you think aloud.

“That’s probably why we couldn’t solve it,” retorts Dwayne.

“A man washes up on the beach totally naked, no idea of who he is or what he was doing – pick the bones out of that,” you say to no one in particular.

“Don’t forget that you’ve got your scan this afternoon, Sarge,” JP reminds you.

“Thanks, JP,” you grin. “I hope nothing too stressful comes through whilst we’re gone.”

Just then, the phone rings. “Hello, Honoré police station,” JP answers. “Oh… really? That’s terrible. I’m sure that we can figure something out. Yes… yes… we’ll be right down.”

He replaces the receiver looking downcast. You cannot move your scan appointment again, you tell yourself. The receptionist already has you on some kind of blacklist, you’re sure of it.

“What is it, JP?” you ask, tentatively. 

“We’ve just had a report of goat stealing, Sarge,” says JP.

“Goat stealing?!” Humphrey half-laughs as he walks in with your cup of tea. “Surely not.”

“Best get down there Dwayne,” JP says, getting up.

Dwayne looks from JP to you and Humphrey. “Any chance I can come to your scan too, Sarge?”

“No,” you and Humphrey both say together, trying to suppress your laughter.

*

You lie back on the examination bed, your bare stomach exposed to the cool temperature of the air conditioning. The ultrasound technician that sits by a computer squirts some cool, clear jelly onto your lower abdomen and spreads it around with the head of the probe.

“Sorry if it’s a bit cold,” she says.

“No, it’s nice,” you tell her.

Beside you, Humphrey holds your hand, looking down at you, lovingly. You smile up at him, then look to the black square screen where a picture of your baby will be.

“How did it go for your first scan? Exciting to see the baby, I’m sure,” she says, typing a few things into the computer. She stops and narrows her eyes at the screen. “Just give me a second,” the technician says, moving the probe around and turning the screen to face her. You look at Humphrey, who looks just as confused as you feel. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and forces a smile. 

“Is everything alright with the baby?” you ask, willing yourself not to panic, as the technician clicks the mouse and moves it around. “I’ve noticed I haven’t really got a bump yet. I think most of it is probably cake –,” you say, but before the technician can reply, she turns around the screen to show you and Humphrey. There in the middle of your uterus is a small baby-looking blob.

“There you are,” says the technician. “Quite a wriggler that one.”

You can’t help but feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Compared to your last scan, this one feels more real. This time, your baby actually looks more like… well… a baby. You turn to Humphrey whose eyes have also begun to shimmer with tears. He looks down at you, squeezing your hand tighter and running his free hand over your forehead affectionately.

“That’s our baby,” he says, his voice cracking.

“Yeah,” you nod, as he kisses your forehead.

“And don’t worry about the bump,” the technician adds. “Sometimes you just pop out overnight. It will happen. Your baby is only the size of an avocado at the moment.”

“Okay,” you nod, breathing normally now.

“Would you like to know your baby’s gender?” the technician asks.

You say “no” just as Humphrey says “yes”. You both look at each other and laugh. “Obviously, we haven’t decided yet,” says Humphrey.

The technician laughs too. “Not to worry. You’ve plenty of time to think about it.”

“Okay,” you nod, looking back at the screen again.

*

You and Humphrey sit on the veranda of the Shack watching the waves roll onto the shore. Humphrey sips his beer whilst you gaze out at the water. This is your favourite place to be, sitting on a wicker loveseat, curled up in his arms. 

“Do you really not want to know what we’re having?” Humphrey asks, rubbing your back.

You look up at him and smile, then rest your head on his jaw. “No. I think I’d like it to be a surprise.” Humphrey nods. “Are you desperate to find out?” you ask.

“No,” he muses. “I just think it would be easier to know in advance. That way we can start thinking of names.”

“You shoot down every name I suggest,” you sit up, looking at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“I don’t want to name the baby Humphrey Junior,” he scoffs.

“Actually, it was Humphrey Dwayne J.P. Selwyn Goodman that I suggested,” you correct him, with a cheeky glint in your eye.

Humphrey laughs out loud and shakes his head. “Politely, no.”

“Fine,” you say, mocking your annoyance. “We need to think about where we’re going to put the baby too.”

“Hopefully in a crib.”

“Yes, but where are we going to put the crib?”

“We could clear out that back room,” muses Humphrey. “That junk needs sorting, doesn’t it. Perhaps we can do it this weekend?”

You nod. “I’d like that. We should phone the Commissioner and ask him if we can repaint.”

“It’ll be free labour. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“We should paint it yellow, like the sun,” you think aloud to yourself.

“That would be nice.”

You unfurl yourself from his embrace. “I’m going to go and get changed,” you tell him. “These jeans are starting to dig in.”

“Okay.”

You climb off the loveseat and head inside, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it into the laundry basket. Then you pull down your trousers and shake the legs from your feet. It feels great to no longer be under the restriction of fabric, free to wear baggy t-shirts, and loose-fitting jogging bottoms. You pull them on and as you pull your t-shirt down around yourself, you run your hands over your stomach.

“Humphrey,” you call to him through the back door.

“Yeah,” he says lazily, obviously lost in thought.

“Come here a minute.”

“What’s up?” he asks, walking into the bedroom.

“Look,” you say, rubbing your hand over your stomach, then looking up at him. “I think I’ve got a bump.”

“So, you have,” he smiles. He stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you and cradling your stomach.

You run your hands over his arms before coming to rest on top of his hands. “It seems I’ve just popped out.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

The jeep pulls up just behind Dwayne and JP’s bike at the latest crime scene. Before you stands a beautiful house in the suburbs of Saint Marie where your latest victim was found dead in their swimming pool this morning by the cleaner. You climb out of the jeep and walk towards the back door of the vehicle, opening it and reaching for the kit to unload it onto the pavement. Dwayne appears at your side.

“What do you think you’re doing, Sarge?” he asks, his arms folded over his chest.

You look at him, confused. “Getting the kit out of the van, Dwayne.”

“No way,” he says, reaching between you and the van to grab the handle of the case. “Let me do it.”

“Why?”

He sighs. “Because you can’t be carrying things around in your condition,” he says, nodding to your stomach.

“My condition?” you laugh bitterly. “Dwayne, I’m pregnant, not armless.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Sarge,” he says, trying to balance a box on top of holding the case and almost dropping them both. 

“Let me help you, Dwayne,” you say, trying to steady him.

“No – no,” he insists. “JP will help me. We don’t want you overexerting yourself now do we?”

You laugh and rub your small bump affectionately. It’s really starting to poke through now. No longer looking as though you’d gained a bit of weight, and now starting to look properly pregnant. You walk back around to the front of the jeep where Humphrey is surveying the front of the house.

“No sign of footprints on the grass,” he ponders as he sees you approach. “It rained last night so there would be some indentation in the wet grass at least if it was an intruder. If I were going to murder someone in their own home, I wouldn’t walk up the front path. There are automatic floor lights that come on. The victim would have been alerted instantly. They must have been known to the victim, I guess, or knew they were coming.” He turns to you and smiles. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, but Dwayne won’t let me carry anything,” you reply.

He smiles at Dwayne and JP as they pass towards the house. “He’s just looking out for you, that’s all.”

“It’s sweet of him. But if he carries on then I’m not quite sure if I’ll be able to do anything at all – except for filing.” Humphrey goes to open his mouth, but you hold a hand up to stop him. “Don’t,” you tell him. 

“Parking tickets,” Humphrey says almost instantly. “Low threat, no heavy lifting.”

“Please do not put me on parking tickets,” you groan.

Humphrey laughs. “Okay fine. But you’ll have to take maternity leave at some point.”

“I’m working until my waters break,” you insist.

“Really?”

“Yes, you need me.”

“Yes, for parking tickets.”

You bat him on the arm affectionately and he kisses your cheek in response. You grab his hand and lead him up the front path and into the house. You start looking around, gloves on, notebook out, looking for anything that could aid you in your investigation. Humphrey mutters to himself, inspecting the lounge carpet. You look at the kitchen, noticing the victim’s handbag on the countertop. It feels wrong to be looking through someone’s personal items like this, but anything could be a lead. You pick out the victim’s purse and check how many credit cards are in her name, and whether they match the passport you found. You can’t rule anything out. Just then, something catches your eye. In the clear plastic section of the purse is a photograph.

“Humphrey,” you call.

A split second later he is next to you, hand on your stomach. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Look,” you say, showing him the photograph. “That’s the man we found dead on the beach. Next to the victim, we’ve just found dead in the swimming pool.”

“Good catch, babe,” says Humphrey. “Looks like we’ve found a new lead.”

*

Later that night, you and Humphrey lay in bed together, trying not to think about the new lead on the case but struggling not to. It was all too exciting. What did this mean? In your heart, you had resigned yourself to the fact that the case of the washed-up man would be a cold case forevermore. But now, you had something new and exciting to play with. Something that could get the ball rolling again.

“I can’t stop thinking about it Humphrey,” you tell him. “It’s doing my head in. I just want to go to sleep but I can’t.”

“I know, neither can I. How does it all fit?” Humphrey edges closer to you and wraps his arms around you and your bump. “You’re going to be insufferable when you eventually take my advice and go on maternity leave. You’ll be asking me about cases left right and center. We may as well pitch up the police station here.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” you reply. “That way I can solve cases from my bed. It’s a win-win.”

You turn your head to Humphrey who kisses you lovingly. You cup his face, kissing him back ardently, as his hands snake their way up your t-shirt. You groan against his lips. You relax into each other, but as you do you feel movement in your stomach, followed by a kick. You sit up on your elbows immediately, hands straight on your bump.

“What is it?” asks Humphrey.

“The baby just kicked,” you say, wide-eyed with shock. “Oh my god. Put your hand here,” you say, grabbing Humphrey’s hand and placing it on the exact same spot. You both wait for a few seconds. “No, he definitely kicked. Try here,” you say, moving Humphrey’s hand over slightly. You wait again but nothing happens. “I guess you missed it.”

“Never mind,” shrugs Humphrey, laying back down again. “It wasn’t the first and won’t be the last. And you said _he_ ,” Humphrey adds in a teasing tone. 

You look over at him with a smile. “I still think it’s a boy,” you reply.

“And you’re wrong, darling. I told you, it’s a girl,” he says snuggling in closer to you.

“I don’t know how you think you know,” you counter. “I’m carrying the baby. _I know_.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we. And remember, the loser pays.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

You and Humphrey sit on the floor of the Honoré police station surrounded by various evidence bags and upturned boxes. Your stomach rests easily in your lap now.

“This is the longest it’s ever taken for us to solve a case,” Humphrey sighs. “I don’t like it. It makes me feel like I’m off my game.”

“Honey, it’s not you, it’s the case,” you tell him. “This is a particularly hard one to crack. But I’ll say what I always say. There isn’t a case we can’t solve.”

“You’re right,” Humphrey nods. “It doesn’t matter that it’s been at least a month. It’s the case. Definitely the case.”

You swear for a second you can see him twitch. “JP and Dwayne are taking an awfully long time on those follow-up statements,” you say, casting your eyes over another witness statement.

“I’m sure it’s not the statements taking a long time, it’s probably that the farmer has persuaded them into actively searching for the stolen goats themselves,” replies Humphrey, taking another sip of tea.

“So, let’s go through this again. The house that the victim, Karen Harper, was staying in was a rented Airbnb,” you say to yourself, but aloud, for what feels like the hundredth time. “According to the statement from the AirBnB owner she had come to Saint Marie to find her brother, Liam Goldsmith.”

“Who we can assume thanks to the photograph was the washed-up body on the beach,” Humphrey interjects.

“Yes, and then she was murdered the morning after she arrived although the crime scene was staged to look as though she had tripped and fallen on the patio outside, gaining the gash to her head, falling into the pool and drowning,” you finish.

“But according to the owner of the house, she didn’t know anyone else on the island except for her brother –,”

“Who was already dead –,”

“Unless she was lying,” you finish.

“What are we missing?” Humphrey exclaims out loud.

Just then, Dwayne and JP come through the doors to the police station look dishevelled.

“How did it go?” Humphrey asks, getting up.

“We found the goats,” JP replies, slightly out of breath.

“Well done guys!” you reply. “Where were they?”

“In the next field,” Dwayne says, exasperated. “The farmer didn’t think to look there, did he? No! Had us running all over the island looking for these damn goats.”

“Still, it shows community spirit and you probably got a lot of exercise,” laughs Humphrey.

You get up off the floor, with some difficulty now you’re heavily pregnant but manage it and sit at your desk. “Did we find the email logins for the victim?” you ask, waking your computer up.

“Yeah, they’re here,” says JP, handing you a piece of paper from his desk.

“What are you thinking, number two?” Humphrey asks, draining his mug.

“I just want to have a look, see if she let anyone else know she was coming to Saint Marie,” you say, tapping on your keyboard and logging in.

After sifting through the Airbnb receipts and flight confirmations, you eventually find some personal emails.

“Guys look at this,” you say, beckoning them all over to your computer.

“What have you found?” asks Humphrey.

“The victim was emailing someone called Adam Lyons, saying that she was coming to the island to find her brother and that she knew he had been friends with her brother before he died. She wanted to meet up with him when she landed,” you say.

“Good work. Let’s find this Adam Lyons and get a statement immediately,” says Humphrey, walking back over to his desk.

“We’ve already found him,” you say.

“Christ, that was quick.”

“No,” you laugh. “I mean, look at the details the coastguard gave us when we asked him about the washed-up body.”

Humphrey rummages through the boxes of evidence in front of him. “Aha!” he cries when he finds it, holding the piece of paper above his head. “Adam Lyons!” he says excitedly. “In the jeep – let's go!”

*

As you step out of the jeep, the wall of heat hits you. It doesn’t feel like you’ve been living on the Caribbean island, it feels like you’re a newcomer all over again, getting to grips with the humidity. You try and fan yourself with some files from the jeep but it’s no use.

“Are you okay?” Humphrey asks.

“You ask me that a lot lately,” you reply.

“It’s because I love you and that’s what people do when they love you,” says Humphrey, half-mocking.

“I’m fine. Just hot,” you say. “I am carrying a baby, you know.”

“If you want to stay in the jeep –,”

“Humphrey, I’m not a dog.”

“I’m not saying –,”

“I can do this,” you tell him, putting your hands on his chest. He leans his forehead against yours. For a moment you revel in the shade his body is giving you.

“Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll just worry about you in my head then.”

“Nothing to worry about. Everything under control,” you reply, giving him a quick peck. It doesn’t stop you from grabbing his hand and holding it reassuringly as you walk towards the control room of the coastguard.

In theory, looking out to sea all day sounds right up your street, but sitting in a building on the shore, in direct sunlight makes you think twice. You hope the place has air conditioning. Dwayne opens the door, allowing you and Humphrey to step in first, followed by JP, then Dwayne. The place looks like something out of Star Trek. A huge control panel with buttons of all shapes and sizes, screens, and flashing lights, except rather than looking out into deep space, you look out onto the deep ocean.

“Adam Lyons?” you ask the man sitting in the chair. It’s the same man who you met the day Liam Goldsmith was washed up naked on the beach.

The man turns around in his swivel chair. “Yes?”

“We need to speak to you,” says Humphrey.

Adam cocks his eyebrow. “About what?”

Humphrey holds up the picture of the victims for Adam to see. “About how you knew Karen Harper, who was found dead in her swimming pool, and Liam Goldsmith, washed up on Saint Marie beach a few months ago. You might remember us asking you to come down to the crime scene to answer a few of our questions. Karen and Liam were brother and sister. You knew them, didn’t you?”

“I don’t recognise them,” says Adam, not an inch of emotion on his face.

“We have your emails to Karen agreeing to meet up when she came to the island,” you say, showing him the folder full of papers.

“I don’t see what this all has to do with me,” Adam shrugs.

“We just want to ask a few questions,” says Humphrey, mimicking his shrug.

“Am I an official suspect?”

“No, but would you like to be?”

“Not particularly,” Adam counters. “Do I need to hire a lawyer?”

“Not unless you want to.”

“You’re not being very clear with your intentions, Detective Inspector?”

“Goodman. And neither are you,” Humphrey circles him, eyes narrow. “We’d like to take another statement if it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ve already given you one. I’ve nothing to say.”

“I’m sure you could wrack your brains and find something,” replies Humphrey.

You can see he is grating on Humphrey and he’s starting to wind you up too. The heat is making it hard to breathe and you’re just about ready to snap. You push past Humphrey and lean over the desk at Adam. “I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with Mr. Lyons, but I am a heavily pregnant Detective Sargent who has just about had enough of smart ass men who think they can talk their way out of complying with an Officer’s request so you can sit here and have your statement taken or you can come to the police station and we can _make_ you have your statement taken – _do I make myself clear?!_ ”

The control room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Adam’s face said it all. It had fallen in shock.

“Officer Myers, Officer Hooper, pick this young man’s face up off the floor and take his statement. Thank you,” you say, before turning on your heels and leaving the control room.

Outside, you grip the railings, breathing deeply, trying to soak up the sun rather than be scorched in it. Nothing helps. You’re so uncomfortable now. For a split second, you feel like breaking and agree that maternity leave is a great idea, then Humphrey appears at your side.

“Bloody hell – are you alright?” he asks, softly.

You can’t help but smile. “I’m fine. I’ve just had enough.”

“Do you want to go home?” he asks, rubbing your back.

You shake your head. “No, no, I’m okay, I just need to get out of the sun and get somewhere cooler.”

“Okay, the statement won’t take long and then we can head back. I’m not calling you a dog, but do you want to sit in the jeep?”

“Yeah, please,” you agree, taking the keys and walking back. You can’t feel defeated though, not with the effect you had on Adam. It feels entirely like a triumph.

Eventually, all four of you arrive back at the police station feeling one step closer to the truth, but not entirely satisfied. You, however, are satisfied by the number of fans in the room and try to shrug everything else about the case off.

“It wasn’t really that useful, the statement,” sighs Dwayne as you all pile in. 

“No,” Humphrey agrees. “Still, it’s something. Let’s keep positive. Let’s dig up all we can on Adam Lyons.”

“I’ll get started on his emails,” JP announces.

As you sit down at your desk, an email awaits you in your inbox. It’s from the immigration office at the Saint Marie airport, listing all incoming passengers and outgoing passengers for the week that Karen Harper travelled to the island.

“Humphrey, we’ve got confirmation on the date Karen Harper landed. It’s the same day we thought,” you say, sending the page to the printer.

“Okay,” Humphrey nods, sitting down at his desk. “Let’s get it in the file.”

You get up and walk over to the printer, picking up the document and taking it back over to your desk. You highlight Karen’s name and the date, then open the file to put it inside. As you do so, another name catches your eye.

“Humphrey – the list,” you say, trying to connect the pieces of the puzzle in your mind.

“What about it?”

You look up, completely astounded. “It’s got Adam Lyons’s name on it. He left the island before Karen arrived. He hasn’t returned yet, not unless he landed today.”

“Adam Lyons – are you sure?” asks Humphrey, getting up and walking over to your desk. He looks over your shoulder at the file. “Is there likely to be another Adam Lyons on the island?”

“Perhaps,” you muse.

Just then, Humphrey’s head snaps up at the whiteboard. “Oh, good grief… what if there is?!” he cries, muttering to himself, pacing the room. “Oh of course!” says Humphrey, now standing in front of the whiteboard. “JP, we need to get hold of Adam Lyons’s emails as quickly as possible. Dwayne, I need eyes on Adam Lyons, or whoever he is.”

“Yes, Chief,” says Dwayne, immediately leaving.

“And you,” he says, reaching over the desk and planting a big kiss on your forehead. “You are a beauty!”

“Err… thanks,” you smile. “What is it exactly that you’ve cracked, Humphrey?”

“Adam Lyons is not Adam Lyons,” he says excitedly.

Suddenly the truth crashes over you in a wave. “Oh my god!” you say. “He’s not is he?!”

“No, he’s not.” 

“Chief,” JP says, beckoning Humphrey over to the computer. You take a look too and when you both see it; it makes total sense.

“Bingo!” Humphrey announces as the two of you skip out to the jeep.

“Catch me up in the car,” JP calls after you, haphazardly trying to lock the station. “I’m so confused!”

*

Dwayne phones to let you know that “Adam” is still in the control room. As the four of you approach, ready to let him know exactly how you figured it all out, Humphrey takes your arm, bringing you back from JP and Dwayne.

“You should do the grand reveal,” he says softly, handing you the files.

“What do you mean?” you ask. “You always do it.”

“I think you’ve earned it,” he replies, looking at you lovingly. “Besides, everyone should get to do it at least once.”

“Okay,” you nod, catching up with the other two and stepping inside the control room.

“Adam Lyons – you’re under arrest,” you tell him.

“What?” he exclaims. “What do you mean?”

“The game is up. We know everything,” you say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” scoffs Adam.

“Let us give you the details. It all starts with Liam Goldsmith. Liam Goldsmith died after entering the water during the night to skinny dip about three months ago, but he didn’t go alone. He was with someone – with you, Adam Lyons, or should we call you by your real name Jason Price?” you say, double-checking the files.

“You and Liam were having an affair and he threatened to tell your wife. So, you vowed to do what you could to save your marriage. You took Liam skinny dipping, knowing from the reports you receive as a coastguard that the water wasn’t safe that night and that he wasn’t a strong swimmer, knowing the tide would take him and that he would drown.”

“That’s ridiculous!” cries Jason.

“Let me finish. Because it gets a whole lot more ridiculous as we go on,” you say. “Of course, it just looked like a tragic accident and when the call came through that we wanted to speak to you, you knew you could give us a cast-iron alibi. Your co-worker Adam was working the shift that night, give us his name and we’d be none the wiser. You couldn’t be tied to what happened with Liam because according to us, you, _Adam_ , was here all night.”

“You still can’t prove anything,” Jason scoffs. “I don’t have a clue what you’re on about.”

“You’re right it is still confusing,” you reply. “And naturally, this conclusion doesn’t account for the emails we found between Adam and Karen. But what we’d failed to realise was that Adam and Liam were friends too, in fact, it was him that introduced you both. So, when Karen emailed Adam to arrange a meet-up, you knew you had to get in there and stop Karen from finding out what happened to her brother. Now, this is where it gets really ridiculous. You orchestrated a fake holiday win for Adam and made it look like a radio show had contacted a totally random resident of Saint Marie and that he was the chosen one. Of course, Adam felt bad about not being able to meet up with Karen, but you promised him you would take care of it. You would give Karen the closure about her brother that she so desperately needed. You and Liam were friends after all, weren’t you? And that’s when you killed her. Knowing that she would eventually find out the truth about what happened to her brother, you killed her and made it look like an accident. And it all would have worked except for one fatal flaw. When we came knocking at your door asking for a statement, you held up the Adam Lyons alibi, I mean how could you not, we met with you the morning after Liam died, you told us you were Adam. But you couldn’t deny the emails arranging Adam to meet with Karen, which linked you to her regardless. We have proof that Adam left the country for his fake holiday win. No one else knew about his meeting with Karen. It had to be you, Jason.”

Jason hangs his head. “I won’t say anything more without a lawyer.”

“Smart move, Jason. You’re going to need a really good one to get out of this mess,” you say, walking behind Jason and taking his arms behind him, locking them in cuffs. “I might be pregnant, but baby brain hasn’t quite got me yet,” you say in his ear. Dwayne and JP take Jason by the elbows and lead him out to the jeep. Humphrey turns to you, his face grinning with pride, and gives you an enthusiastic high five.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

Once Adam landed back on the island and corroborated everything in the evidence boxes, it was really an open and shut case. Jason was put away for a double murder and everything in the Honoré police station was back to normal. All four of you arrived back at the station, feeling like you had stepped out of a whirlwind.

“Do you think the judge minded that I wasn’t dressed formally?” you ask, waddling through the door and immediately going to sit down.

“Darling, you’re about to go into labour any second – I really don’t think he cared,” Humphrey replies, handing you a bottle of water. “Besides, that dress is lovely.”

“It’s the only thing that fits me,” you snort, and take a drink. The phone rings and JP answers it. “Please not another murder. Please wait until I’ve pushed this baby out. I can’t take any more drama!”

JP finishes on the phone and puts the receiver back on the handset. “The Commissioner says he’ll pop by tomorrow, Chief.”

“Great. Thanks, JP,” says Humphrey, grabbing a rag to wipe the whiteboard clean. 

In your chair, you rub your stomach, revelling in the feeling of the air conditioning on your skin. Carrying a baby around in your stomach is hard work. Humphrey walks over to your desk and perches on the side of it. He reaches out and rubs your tummy affectionately.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks gently. You nod. “Do you think it’s time for maternity leave?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, maybe now that we’ve solved the latest murder case, I could take a few hours off,” you reply.

“I’ll take you home,” he says. You go to get up but all of a sudden there is this pressure in your stomach, a downward feeling, followed by a release between your legs. You grab Humphrey’s forearm and grip it tightly. “What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Don’t take me home,” you say, looking down between your legs. “You have to take me to the hospital.”

Humphrey’s eyes widen. “What?!”

“Are you serious?” asks JP.

“OH MY GOD!” cries Dwayne.

“I think the baby’s coming,” you tell them. “My waters have broken.”

“Oh my god,” Humphrey says, getting up from the desk. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

Dwayne gets up from his desk too and starts pacing. JP sits there staring at you in complete shock.

“Pack it in, you two,” you tell them, before turning to Humphrey who looks as though he’s about to collapse. “Don’t panic, Humphrey,” you tell him, getting up from the desk and grabbing your bag. Humphrey pushes his hands through his hair. You can see the panic in his eyes, so you grab his hands and hold them tightly. “Humphrey – breathe!” you instruct. “In and out.”

Soon Humphrey’s jagged breathes become long and smooth. Eventually, he stops sweating.

“Isn’t this supposed to be the other way around?” JP asks, having come back to reality.

Dwayne stops pacing and sits down again.

“Okay, everyone needs to remain calm,” you tell them. “Here’s the plan. Humphrey, you’re going to drive us back to the Shack and grab a bag. JP, you need to bring your phone and call the midwife and tell her what’s happening. Dwayne, you need to time my contractions and see how far they are apart. I’m going to concentrate on not having the baby in the jeep. Okay?”

“Yes, Sarge,” JP and Dwayne chorus, as they scramble for their things.

You look back at Humphrey who is white as a sheet. He looks full of excitement but also terror. “We’re really having a baby,” he half-asks.

“Yes,” you nod, cupping his face and kissing him.

“This is happening.”

“It’s happening,” you smile. “Are you okay to drive?”

Humphrey visibly pulls himself together. “Yes, no, yes, I’m absolutely fine,” he says nodding. “Let’s go and have a baby.”

You grip his hand and head out of the station, down the steps, and towards the jeep, as Dwayne locks up behind you. The four of you pile into the jeep and secure your seat belts. As you do so, a wave of a contraction comes over you. You squeeze Humphrey’s hand. He starts to squirm in your grip as you cry out. You hold his hand harder making him cry out in pain too. Eventually, it stops and you can relax.

“Phew!” you say, looking to Humphrey who is nursing his poor crumbled fingers. “Sorry,” you add.

“And that’s just one contraction, yes?” he clarifies.

“Afraid so.”

“Right,” he nods, starting the jeep and driving home towards the Shack. “By the time we get you out of the jeep and into the Shack there may not be much time so just tell me what you need, and I’ll run in and get it.”

“I’ve already got a bag ready,” you tell him.

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s been packed for weeks. It’s in the nursery, ready to go.”

“Oh, well that’s good. Saves time,” he says.

The jeep screeches to a halt as Humphrey leaps out, unlocks the front door, dives in and out again in a matter of seconds, holding the bag. He practically throws it at Dwayne who is timing another of your contractions. Without warning, Humphrey starts the jeep and puts his foot down, heading towards the hospital. Since you’ve known Humphrey, his driving skills have left a lot to be desired, but this is an entirely new experience. You’re not sure what you fear most, his driving or giving birth. Behind you, JP hangs up the phone to the midwife.

“They’re waiting for you,” he tells you. You nod through the pain.

“Your contractions are getting closer, Sarge,” says Dwayne in a warning tone.

“Yes, thank you, Dwayne,” you snap.

“Just saying –,” replies Dwayne.

Eventually, the jeep screeches to a halt in the parking bay outside the St Francis’s hospital. “We’ll park,” says JP, jumping out of the back holding your bag. “You guys get inside.”

“Thanks, JP,” says Humphrey, taking the bag from him.

Dwayne helps you out and hands you over to Humphrey, who grips your hand tightly. You walk gingerly over to the door but stop at the threshold.

“What’s the matter?” Humphrey asks. “Are you having another contraction?”

“No, I’m okay,” you breathe. “It’s just…”

“What is it?”

“We’re really doing this,” you say, turning to him.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “Yeah, we really are.” You nod, feeling your legs get wobbly. “Hey,” he cups your face, making you look deep into his eyes. “I’m right here. Okay? We’ve got this.”

You nod again, feeling your resolve strengthen.

“Let’s go and have a baby,” you tell him.

Once you got your room set up, Dwayne and JP join you, passing the time by doing crosswords in the paper and telling stories. The midwife comes in to check you over and see how you’re doing. She puts her hand between your legs, which at this point you’re entirely not bothered by, waits for a second, and then records her findings on your chart.

“What’s she doing?” Dwayne asks, nodding to you after she leaves.

“Checking how many centimeters I’m dilated,” you reply.

“How does she know?” scoffs Dwayne. “Has she got a ruler?”

“No, Dwayne,” Humphrey laughs. “She uses her fingers.”

“Her fingers?” Dwayne chokes.

“Yes, I would provide a demonstration but we’re not really at that point in our friendship,” you add.

You lay there a bit longer. Eventually, the midwife returns, checks you over, and announces, “any time now.”

JP and Dwayne stand up. “That’s our cue,” JP says. “Good luck Sarge, Inspector.”

“Thanks, guys,” says Humphrey standing up.

You raise yourself up on your arms. “I think it’s now,” you say. “I need to push.” JP and Dwayne make a quick exit and the midwife readies herself by your feet.

“Are you sure?” asks Humphrey, sitting on the bed behind you in the space where you were laying.

You grip his hands and lean back on him. He is so strong. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Push when you need to,” the midwife instructs you.

Humphrey kisses your head. You are strong. You’ve got this. In a few pushes, your baby’s cry fills the room.

“Congratulations, it’s a girl,” says the midwife.

You can’t help but cry. All the pent-up emotion, the anticipation, the excitement, the anxiety, and the love that you’ve been carrying inside of you has been released. You look up at Humphrey, who is also sobbing at this beautiful moment. He kisses you on the head.

“You did it, babe,” he whispers.

“Does Dad want to cut the cord?”

Humphrey reaches over and cuts the umbilical cord. The midwife takes your baby to be washed and wrapped.

“You were right,” you tell him, turning properly in his arms to kiss him on the mouth. “I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”

He cradles you against his chest. “I told you, father’s intuition,” he grins.

*

At some point in the night, you wake up, not to the sound of your baby crying or even to the sound of Humphrey dropping something in the kitchen as he warms her milk. No, you awake to complete and utter silence.

Well, it’s almost silence. You can hear the sound of the waves crashing as usual. It’s as relaxing to you as the sound of a crackling log fire used to be. The back doors are open, and Humphrey isn’t at your side, so you can only assume where he might be. You get up and tiptoe over to the veranda, poking your head out and seeing Humphrey sitting on the wicker love seat with your baby girl in his arms. He is topless, looking entirely enamoured with the little bundle of joy. The lights on the veranda dance in the moonlight. It looks so romantic out here, you think to yourself. Humphrey looks up as you approach.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“Couldn’t you sleep?” Humphrey asks.

“Just wondered where you were,” you reply, sitting down next to him on the seat.

He looks at you lovingly, as you brush his hair out of his eyes affectionately. He kisses your palm and you put your head on his shoulder, both of you looking down at your daughter.

“She’s so beautiful,” you whisper.

“She looks like her Mum,” Humphrey whispers back.

“She’s got your eyes though. What are you doing out here with your shirt off anyway, stud?” you ask, running your hand over one of his strong arms.

“Just doing a bit of skin-to-skin contact,” explains Humphrey. “It helps new-borns bond with their fathers.”

You sit up and smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. You sit back and take stock for a moment. You can’t help but feel the tears well up in your eyes. It’s all so beautiful. The lights, the view, sitting together, Humphrey, your daughter. You blink, letting the tears fall down your cheeks.

He notices you, just like he always does. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he asks, gently.

“Nothing,” you tell him with a smile, as he wipes away your tears. “I’m just so happy.”

“Me too,” he agrees.

“Thank you for the life you have given me," you tell him. He leans over and kisses you ardently on the mouth. You want to stay like this forever, and maybe if you’re lucky, perhaps you will.


End file.
